The next few have me slightly more concerned. They’re taken from inside the underground parking garage of The Rebel Dutchess, which you supposedly can’t get into without clearance. One is taken from a distance, straight on through the windshield. I’m on top of him in the driver’s seat, slightly leaning to the right, giving a clear shot of Mav’s face. His head’s resting back against the seat, jaw slack, staring at me with lust ridden eyes. Though you can only see my back, it’s not hard to figure out that I’m riding him. The next shows us hand in hand, making our way toward the elevator. And, finally, the last of the images is by far the most damning. We’re in the elevator—doors in the process of closing—with me pressed up against the back wall as Mav bites my neck. My head’s leaning back against the mirrors, baring a look of sheer ecstasy as Mav’s hand disappears up my dress between my legs.

“Where did you get these?” I hold up one of the images.

“That’s the only thing you have to say?!” He scoffs. “Come on, you can do better than that. Let’s hear whatever excuse is going to pop out of your whore mouth.”

My eyes narrow, my jaw tightening at the vulgarity with which he’s addressing me. “You want me to lie to you, Caleb? Hmm? Would that make it hurt less?”

His hand slams down on the table, causing his coffee to slightly spill over the edge of his mug. “What I wanted was for my girlfriend to keep her legs closed for people who are not me!”

“Caleb,” I begin, attempting to remain calm and understanding considering I realize I am the one at fault in this situation, “I’m sorry. It was never my intention for you to find out this way. And I really wish you didn’t see those pictures. Not because I would be staying if you hadn’t, but because I know how bad they hurt you.”

“So that’s it?” he spits, his lip curling up in disgust. “You’re really leaving me for that piece of shit? All so you can what? Go play Bonnie and Clyde with the local trailer trash?”

“Okay, you know what?” I cut him off, pushing up from the table to rise to my feet. “We’re done here. I’m trying to be understanding because I get it, I fucked up. I should have ended things with you first. But I’m not going to sit here and let you rip me apart. Nothing good is going to come from us sharing the same space right now, so I’ll grab some stuff real quick and have the rest out by next week the latest.”

I turn to make my retreat when I’m ripped back by my elbow.

“No!” he protests, attempting to pull me back into him. “We are not done here! We are not done until I say we are done.”

“That’s not how this works.” I shake my elbow free of his grasp, eyeing him defiantly. “I am leaving. This is over.”

“I said no!” He reaches for me again. Gripping hold of my arm, his fingers dig into my flesh with bruising force.

I try to break free once more, though this time I’m not as successful. “Caleb.” My tone comes out firm. “You’re hurting me.”

“And I’m supposed to care about that? You didn’t seem to care about hurting me while you were fucking your gangster ex-boyfriend!”

The cocking of guns behind me has Caleb’s gaze migrating over my shoulder. He stills as he takes in the sight, my head looking back to see what’s given him pause.

Finn and T stand in the kitchen, guns drawn with Finn slowly approaching.

“You know, Caleb,” Finn begins, coming to stand beside me, “I’m thankful you used the term ‘gangster’ in your description. That means you know who we are, and I gotta admit that’s a relief. Now I don’t have to convince you how serious I am when I say that I will fucking shoot you without so much as a second thought if you do not take your hands off her.”

Caleb glares at him, briefly maintaining his grip on my arm before reluctantly releasing me from his grasp. I pull back, slightly stunned he’s not more rattled by the weapons trained on him.

T whistles at me, motioning for me to come stand behind him. I comply, positioning myself at his back.

“Good boy,” Finn patronizes Caleb. “Now… Jones?” he calls out over his shoulder to me. “I want you to go grab anything you need right now, and we’ll send people for the rest. Okay?”

I nod, scurrying off to the bedroom where I grab a duffle bag and start shoving some clothes and sneakers inside. Making my way over to the dresser, I snatch up my phone charger, makeup, and a few pieces of jewelry that have sentimental value before giving the room a final scan. Satisfied with what I’ve grabbed, I make my way down the hallway back to where Finn and Tristan still have Caleb under guard.

“You all set?” T asks me, glancing down to my bag.

“Yeah,” I nod. “This is good for now.”

T holsters his weapon before taking my bag from me and slinging it over his shoulder. Placing his hand on my back, he nods in the direction of the door. I spare a final glance back at Caleb, whose furious gaze looks as though it could burn me alive.

“Yo!” Finn snaps at him, drawing Caleb’s attention away from me. “The next time we come back, you will leave so we can clear out her stuff. If you damage her things in any way before that, so help me God I will fucking make you wish I shot you.”

Caleb doesn’t acknowledge Finn’s statements. He just stares at him, holding his fierce gaze. After a moment, Finn holsters his weapon as well. “Consider yourself warned,” he offers up as parting words. The three of us then exit the apartment, making our way back down to the street where we left the truck.

Finn pulls open the back door, gesturing for me to climb up. Once I’m in, he shuts it before hopping up into the driver’s seat just as T climbs in on the passenger side and hands me my bag. Finn starts the engine and within seconds we’re heading back to Mav’s place… my place.

“Here.” T reaches back, handing me the photos Caleb confronted me with. “Didn’t think you wanted that fucker keeping those.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, giving him a soft smile as I shove them in my duffle bag beside me.

T reciprocates with a nod before turning back toward the front. “You are so lucky Bishop didn’t come with us.” He chuckles, rubbing at his forehead as he breathes a sigh of relief.